Just One Yesterday
by swaggyzebraTW
Summary: Beatrice Prior was taken captive when she was just a young girl, and has lost all connection with the outside world in the time that she has been there. One day, after going through her normal routine, a boy knocks on her door saying that he has come to save her. Can Tobias actually take her away from the hell she has become accustomed to? Tris/Tobias, Completely AU/OOC.


**A/N: Hey, I wrote this when I was twelve, and it wan't originally a fanfic, but I felt like adding to it and making it one, and I picked the Divergent fandom. So, please enjoy, and keep in mind that I was twelve when I wrote most of this, and my writing has probably improved quite a bit since my writing it. Also, I've only read the first book of Divergent, so this may be a little OOC, and it's definitely AU. Title based on the Fall Out Boy song, "Just One Yesterday".  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent or any of its characters, all rights go to Veronica Roth and her people. **

I allowed my gaze so study the plain white walls of my confinement. I had spent hours studying these walls, however I could never find anything unique about them. The walls were overly ordinary, and lacked any basic splash of color, or even some intrinsic grime. They were almost sterile, which only succeeded in making them even more dull then I would have even thought possible.

I tried to make my self a little more comfortable, however I wasn't very successful. The bed I was currently resting on was old and cheap, so I could feel the metal springs driving into my back. The springs seemed to get sharper and dig into my spine farther with every passing day. No matter how I tossed myself, I was still in discomfort. The only way that I have found to distract myself from my physical pain is to enter a long, seamless train of thought.

Having been inside these walls for so long, I often end up thinking about how long I have been here, however, no matter how hard I try, I can never come up with a reasonable guess to how long I have resided within this building. For all I know, I could have been here for a decade. I no longer knew my age, and my captors refused to tell me, so I honestly find myself completely lost in that aspect of my life.

In all the time that I have been here, however long that may be, I have never had a visitor that has ever truly cared enough to even bother to return. All of my old friends, along with the rest of the world, have all seemed to have forgotten me. The only people that see me are a couple doctors and other miscellaneous employees that only provide me with feed and water. The food they force me to swallow, is as stale as this room, and the water is often filthy, but it keeps me on this planet. I honestly don't know why they still keep me here, because at this point I must be a waste of resources; or simply an inconvenience to them.

I have forgotten the original excuse used to bring me here, as that too had faded away with most of my memories. All I can remember now is pain and suffering. Endless, merciless, agony, that never appears to relent no matter how much time passes. The only thing I feel now is torchure. Endless torment and suffering. Those few memories that remained in my mind meant little to me, as they were only of this place, and with that sole memory being relived every minute if my miserable life, I felt no need to look back on it.

I allowed myself to drift off into a temporary escape, carrying off into a dreamless sleep.

I only sleep to keep my mind from straying away from the icy borders of this box. My box. Sleep offers a temporary escape from the endless pain that awaits me, and sleep helps me grip onto what little sanity I have left; which, as you can tell, isn't much.

The sanity I do have left, is based off of a few statements, which are said to be remotely true. In example, _this is where I should be. _As much as I hate to believe this, I have discovered it is the truth. So, I continue to tell this to myself, hoping one day the words will no longer sting my skin.

Another statement, vaguely similar to the statement prior, is that _surrendering myself and my future will help me_. This is what my captors want me to believe, and so eventually I will believe it. In the meantime, I allow the statement to roll around my head, eventually causing enough emotional bruises so that I will have no choice but to give in to it.

The last phrase for me to succumb to, is none other then, _fit the mold provided, then you will be free_. I have given this specific phrase quite a bit of thought, and it becomes more tempting every day. Maybe, just maybe, if I change myself to what the world wants me to be, then I can leave this cage, and be truly free. Maybe there is a promising future ahead if me after all, maybe I still have time; just maybe.

* * *

-Line Break-

* * *

I rose from my sleep, only to find that the lights were as blinding as usual. My eyes blinked frantically as they tried to adjust to the new-found brightness, while my hands bunched into the scrappy bedsheets in a desperate attempt to ease the irritation. The illuminating fluorescent whiteness eventually adjusted into my eyes, allowing my rigid limbs to finally collapse into a state of effortlessness.

Looking to my right, I noticed that a small bowl of oatmeal and a mug of water had been placed on my bedside table. I knew that the oatmeal would be stale, and the water unclear; but I found myself reaching for the mug anyway. My hands shook slightly for some unknown reason, though I figured it was the drugs.

Sipping at the liquid, I confirmed my suspicions of it being unsanitary, tasting small bits of leaves and dirt enter my mouth. I forced myself to swallow, knowing that I would need to if I had any hopes of living. Though I suppose death looked better everyday; this hellhole had lost all sense of welcome, if there had ever been one to begin with.

Placing the mug back on the table by my beside, I turned towards the oatmeal and picked up the dingy spoon that my captors had graciously provided me with. Spooning some of the slop into my mouth, I quickly discovered that it had gone cold a long time ago, and it had probably been prepared days ago. As gross as it sounds, and as revolting as it tasted, I ate it anyway. They wouldn't have provided me with any food at all if they wanted me to die, so there has to be something special about me that's worth keeping me here.

I had just finished off the bowl when I heard a knock at the door. Turning, I couldn't help but be suspicious. None of the doctors or employees bothered knocking anymore, and they usually preferred to visit me in my sleep. A small part of me became excited at the thought that someone new could be standing behind that door, waiting to grace me with their company.

_Calm down, Beatrice,_ I admonished myself, knowing it would only end badly if I were to get my hopes up. After all, in all the time that I had spent in this seemingly god-forsaken place, I had never had a new visitor. Hell, even the people that I originally called my friends no longer visited me, and there was no appeal for a newcomer to wish to take their places.

The knocking continued, growing more persistent. I tried to peer through the small window in the door, but I simply couldn't see who was on the other side. _Maybe they got locked out,_ I thought, almost grinning at the idea.

Eventually, I grew tired of the sound and called out to however was behind the door. "Who's there?"

The knocking stopped, and I heard a key slide into the lock. The knob of the door turned slowly, before the steel swung wide, exposing the face of a teenage boy.

It wasn't difficult to see that he didn't belong in this place. His shoulders were broad and his arms muscular; a spiral of black poking up from under the collar of his black t-shirt. He was tall, with black army boots only adding to his already impressive height. What caught me the most of all were his eyes; blue and piercing and unlike anything I had ever seen to set foot into this building.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant and uninterested, as I had no idea who this man was.

His head cocked to the side a little as though he was evaluating me. I resisted the odd urge to squirm underneath his gaze.

"My name's Four," he answered, taking a step into the room so that he could close the door behind him.

I had no idea why anyone would name themselves something as odd as 'Four', but I suppose I had heard weirder names throughout my time in the compound. All the guards had these odd names that were supposed to make them seem tough, such as 'Fang' or 'Blood' or 'Dystopian'. This boy looked too lean and young to be a guard, although his name almost would have fit the category perfectly. Either way, I had been taught better than question something so trivial and pointless.

"What are you doing here, Four?" I asked, twirling the porridge spoon between my fingers.

He shrugged, looking to the tiled floor. "I came to get you out of here, I guess."

My mouth opened to exclaim something happy, but then I remembered that this was probably all a test. My captors were probably watching to see if I would try to leave and take their bait, signifying that I was failing all of their teachings. Having been beaten before, I figured it would be best to pass such a test and make myself look good.

"Well, I don't need saving, Four." I stated blandly, unable to look at him so I looked to a nearby wall. "I'm happy here, but thanks for the offer."

Four's eyes widened and he looked back at me. "What do you mean you don't need saving? You don't actually want to be in this prison, do you?"

I flinched when he raised his voice, trying to stop the tear that fell down my cheek. "I like it here," I answered, trying to time my words so that a sob wouldn't occur mid-word.

"Are you drugged?" He asked, walking towards me. "They must have injected you with some kind of-"

"No, I'm fine." I said, raising a hand to stop him. "It has been nice meeting you, but you can leave now. I don't require your saving."

My words sounded foreign and unwanted as they came spilling from my mouth, but I knew they needed to be said in order for me to pass this crazy test. If I fell for the bait, they could beat me and torchure me, and I didn't want that. Even if what this boy claimed _was_ true, there was no way he could sneak me past the guards.

His deep voice broke me out of my reverie. "Come on, you're coming with me. They must have given you something."

I leaped off the bed, trying to avoid his advances, but seeing how I hadn't stood up in a long time, I fell to the floor; my limbs collapsing like jelly. "Get away from me!" I warned, crouched below him on the cool floor. "I told you I don't want your help, so please leave!"

Four held up his hands as though he were surrendering, and went down on his knees a foot ahead of me. "I'm not here to hurt you, and I'm going to get you out of here, okay? I won't let them hurt you again, I promise."

Once again, he took a step towards me, his arms extended. I tried to crawl away and raised my voice. "I said go away! I'm not falling for this test!"

Confusion crossed his features, and his head cocked again. "This isn't a test," he said. "I'm here to save you because I think you were abducted a few years ago, and you need some serious help. Please, just let me-"

"I'm supposed to be here." I said, still backing away from him. "The doctors said that they could help me-"

"Help you with what?"

My mouth opened as though it wished to respond, but I quickly realized that I didn't even know what was wrong with me or why I was still here. It was too long ago that they had dragged me into this place, explaining in detail exactly what my problem was, but I just couldn't remember anymore. Maybe I have a rare disease that need a cure or something .Maybe I have a rare genetic mutation. I don't know.

"What's your name?" Four asked me abruptly, his gaze looking tired and sorrowful.

"Beatrice," I whispered, not used to someone actually wishing to know my name. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, _Tris_," he said, moving closer to my cramped spot against the wall. "I need you to trust me, and I thought that all of this would be easier if I knew your name."

_Did he just call me Tris? _I asked myself, wondering if I had misspoken or something while telling my name. No one had ever given me a nickname, let alone call me Tris, and for some reason, I didn't mind it when Four did. A large part of me wished to trust him, although that small part of me still believed this all to be a bunch of trickery made by my captors.

"Are they paying you to do this?" I asked softly, truly wanting to know if all of this was a test or not. I really hoped it wasn't.

I felt his hands on my jaw as he cupped my face. Surprisingly, I didn't even flinch at the contact. Instead, I simply allowed his to pull my face up until I was looking him in the eyes.

"Does it look like evil people are paying me, Tris?" He asked, his tone stern despite the softness of his voice.

I both shrugged and shook my head, not knowing what to believe.

"Please trust me," he said, before wrapping his long arms around my torso and lifting me off the floor.

"Stop, I can't-" I said hopelessly, my voice barely a whisper.

He raised a finger to his lips. "Shh, this place isn't empty of guards yet."

"Four, I think it would be best if-"

He cut me off. "I'm not leaving you here, and that's final. You can either come with me willingly, or I'll give you a peace serum. Your choice, but I personally prefer the former, as I don't want to drug you."

I nodded, and he walked us over to the door; peeking out of the small window and into the hallway. He cursed after a few seconds, and promptly dropped down to the floor, taking me with him.

"There's a guard out there," he explained. "We'll have to wait for him to pass before we can get out."

Having been here for so long, I knew most of the guards by name, and I had observed some of their habits. "What does he look like?" I asked him.

His eyebrows raised, and he was clearly skeptical. "What? Do you think you know him or something?"

I gave another nod. "I've been here long enough to know the patterns of most of the guards."

Four's hands clenched into fists by my sides, and his eyes looked glassy for a brief moment before he controlled himself. Moving quickly, he stood back up and glanced through the window once, before ducking back down to my side.

"He's black, has a shaved head, and is really muscular."

I almost smiled at that. Most of the guards I had seen here were all white, and Dystopian was the only black one that I had met that fit all those characteristics. Lucky for us, Dystopian was smart, but incredibly lazy. He practically lived on coffee, and seldom lingered in my section of the hallway because I had never before tried to escape. He didn't think I was capable of it, and therefore spent most of his time on a different floor of the building.

"He never stays here long," I told Four. "He'll leave within the next minute or two unless he saw you."

"He didn't," Four assured me. "But, we seriously have to get out of here if we plan on making the train."

"What train?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. The sound almost sounded pitiful and angry, as though he didn't find it funny, but rather disgusting. "Never mind," he said. "You wouldn't know what I'm talking about."

I didn't question him, as I hadn't been updated on the happenings of the modern world for a long time. For all I know, trains could have become the only means for transportation, or they could have made one capable of traveling at the speed of light. There was simply no way for me to know, so I just shrugged it off and refocused myself on the task at hand.

_I could actually be getting out of here today._

**A/N: Okay, I guess this was decent enough for posting. Now, if you want me to continue, simply say so, or else it will remain like this. I have multiple fics I'm doing right now, so the one with the most reviews for that chapter gets the update. Thanks for reading!**


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